


Ancient Evils

by KuronekoGrimm



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Animal Behavior, Animal Instincts, Blood and Injury, Body Modification, Bonding, Coral Highlands (Monster Hunter), Death, Deviants, Friendship, Gen, Hunters & Hunting, Minor Character Death, Monsters, Mystery, Original Character(s), Other, Team Bonding, Violence, anomalies, new locales, new monsters, palicos, researchers with hunters, sea of trees, using hunter personas in-game to in-story, wyverians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuronekoGrimm/pseuds/KuronekoGrimm
Summary: In the new world, there has been anomalous behaviors occurring with the monsters living there. Strange sightings, strange noises. It is up to an old world researcher to head there and uncover the mystery trapped within this new land. She will need a team of hunters to help her with her mission, going up against creatures of all sizes, and aggressions. They will have to learn to work together if they wish to come out of this alive. Discover a new monster distributing his own justice to restore the balance of the ecosystem. Discover the mastermind behind the plot.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

In the quiet village, people are just starting their daily tasks. Chefs preparing meals to gift hunters abilities for their travels, researchers flipping through old knowledge to satisfy the masses eager to learn more, whether to combat monsters or to transcribe new ways of using their materials. The armory already in full swing, enhancing, crafting and repairing the tools of hunters and villagers alike.

It was here that most hunters came as a last stop before diving into the unknown on their quests. 

A border town, one that frequently saw the sight of aggressed monsters being driven out of their own homes from new threats. It was a perfect place to find exciting research or materials, given your career. It was also the place for new recruits to learn the ropes before heading out on their own.

A place where you could find all sorts of individuals looking to make their place in the world. The old world that is.

Research had led hunters and other people of their society across the great ocean. In search of the place where unexplained monsters only hinted at in texts left behind by their ancestors could possibly dwell. It was successful of course.

The discovery was made by the most prominent researcher at the time. Originating from a long line of researchers dated back from just after the great dragon war.

The new world.

It led to today's predicament.

A lone woman sits at her kitchen table, staring with unnaturally pale blue eyes at the letter in from her. Her hands folded and resting on her elbows as she contemplates in silence. It was an urgent request for her assistance.

By the admiral of all people. 

His personal palico had brought it to her, sitting comfortably curled up by the hearth as he awaited her response. The companion was spliced with so many scars from his experiences alongside the old bull called his master. Pleasant memories of their battles against the monsters they faced together. Most palicos weren't battle trained anymore, residing in easier roles than facing creatures that would sooner step on them than launch a threating attack. Too much of a nuisance to take seriously.

But wasn't it the same in the beginning for the hunters?

Nevermind.

The woman runs a hand through her darkened locks, vibrant violet echoing in the tresses when the light hit just right. A disgruntled sigh leaving her painted lips as she narrows her eyes at the paper at this point before it eases, running over the expense of the table in front of her, and then the table just before the palico.

They were filled to the brim with all sorts of books, papers and scrolls. Some of hers and others from scholars before her generation, writing down the knowledge they had found during their exploits along with hunters, researching monsters of all shapes and sizes.

They were as fascinated as she is about them. How her father was when he finally found the new world through hidden texts in ruins of their past. He passed with a smile on his face at his accomplishments, and at what she had done so far in her life, following his footsteps. Even granting her his treasure, from the treasure of his life, her mother.

An ethereal cloak from the shrouded Chameleos. They were just rumors until she had slayed one of the elders, gifting the camouflaging cloak as a wedding gift to her father. It was rested on a mannequin, between the two rooms, the cloak billowing and glittering like it was shining with the night sky trapped it its materials. It had such an amazing skill that brought tears to his eyes when he first wore it, the ability to disappear in his location. 

To be one with his surroundings and to not disrupt the creatures affecting the world around him.

It had made all the difference in his eyes, his lucky charm.

She came from a long line of researchers. All of them were exceptional, at the forefront of the field. And she followed them. Her help was like calling a Class S hunter, the highest of the high.

If the admiral was desperate to call for her. For Whisper to intervene and come to the new world, something catastrophic could be occurring. 

Whisper. Another trademark of her lineage. The names of silence were gifted to each child. Juxtaposed to the loud crashing waves they brought forth with their minds. Unsettling the written world with their thoughts, their theories.

Whisper glances again at the letter, delicate fingers moving to hold the worn paper. She had never been to the world her father had discovered. Wanted to finish what he had started in the old world first. 

But this was like a sign, to find something extraordinary, something that would be in her name completely, rather than add-ons to texts or chasing rumors with incompetent bands of hunters. Something refreshing that her father would have jumped at the chance, if he were still around to do so. He would've told her now, to go for it.

She steels herself, allowing an eager smile dance across her face as she stands. Her body moving rapidly around the room and startling the old cat resting by her fireplace with her active nature now after all that time moping and thinking over the letter from his master.

She flitted around, stuffing papers and her journal into her luggage. The necessities to a researcher before stopping in front of the shimmering Chameleos cloak hung up and waiting for her. Her pale eyes soften as her hand brushes against the awaiting fabric.

"It is time, my friend." Whisper murmurs under her breath with a light smile. With this cloak, she was Whisper of the Silence, monster researcher, respected and envied by peers and onlookers alike. Without it, she was just Whisper, an enthusiast of monsters. "I've made my choice."

The outfit was near weightless, and glided onto her form easily, defying the gravity around it as it flutters around her like a celestial robe. Tailors had tried to recreate the look for the festival of the moon, their astral set, but it came with none of her perks, thanks to its source material.

When the cloak covered her body, she lets out a breath of familiarity, of home as she wraps her arms around the cloak adorning her. It takes her a moment to strengthen her resolve before heading around to the old palico cleaning his whiskers with lazy attention.

"Okay Warrior, I'm ready to go." Whisper states, saddling her person with her satchel, the letter safely tucked inside it, and hooking her journal to her opposite hip. 

The researcher is greeted with a long meow, the old feline bouncing up before happily trotting out of the slot within her front door made for mail carrying cats. With ease, she moves outside with him, flipping the sign on her door to prevent unnecessary visitors.

It's when she makes her way across the plaza that people freeze in her presence, murmuring under their breath and some even stopping young blood hunters from greeting her. The cloak meant she was taken for a job, for an opportunity that she would not be leaving anything else for. Besides, the admiral was a well-known face in this town of hers, his palico was no exception to that.

The admiral was not to be questioned, as old as he was, he was wise beyond his years, fighting tough enemies without knowledge of their weakness. Bold, yet stupid. But if he hadn't it would not have paved way to some of the knowledge they have now.

A thought bubbles into Whisper's mind as she follows the battle torn palico through the streets toward the expresses to the docks. 

To the ships leaving for the new world.

As a researcher, her way with weapons was limited. Even more so battling with them against beasts triple her size, all researchers were that way. She would need to call upon a group of hunters to help her in her travels across the new world, in search of whatever this 'hunch' the admiral had called her for.

Most of her acquaintances were still stationed here in the old world, no doubt that they had either interest in traveling away to a world they have grounds on, or packed schedules training their students and conditioning their teams for work here during their trials. 

Running the list through her head, she settles on one she knew would have traveled. And did already for hunting. 

A spitfire warrior woman called Estella. A challenger in all respects, but could hold her own, despite the slurs that fall from her lips as she tore into the creatures that landed in her path. Perhaps in her mind, the words would reach the monster and encourage the battle further. More so the emotion behind the words were received.

Perhaps Whisper wouldn't tell her that some could actually understand them.

She had received word of Estella in the new world with a group of hunters, not based on kinship, but respect and zeni. A mercenary type. But she had heard the loud woman over the winnings of a special set of armor and the designs for the weapon of her choice, free of charge during the last festival lottery. It was big news since the old commander led the team to procure her materials.

Though, she never heard about the armor itself, or the skills the ashen painted woman wound up getting, no doubts she covered it in her dark colors like the rest of her outfits. Armor or not.

But Estella was a perfect choice as far as companions go. Whisper could at least pretend to trust her choice in teammates until her mission was satisfied. The woman could be pleasant and professional went in a good mood. And she had not failed the researcher before, nor sent scorn her way for wanting the quest to be taken in her way, the researcher way.

'Yes.' The violet haired beauty thought with a smirk on her lips, a shine in her eyes at the aspect. 'A grand choice for the start of an adventure.'

A grand choice for the start of an adventure indeed. She could not wait to make it to the new world.


	2. Chapter 2

The warrior woman silently sharpens her sword with her blackened whetstone, the force more than necessary. Flames licked at her charcoal colored hair as her light eyes cross her equally quiet group. 

The air was tense with irritation from all these hunters. The bowman, the dual daggers, and the hammer user were in their own separate areas around the campfire. Their target was the swift wyvern.

Nargacuga. 

An old-world monster that had either been in the depths of the new world all along or had managed to pass the great ocean much like the hunters had.

The creature had gotten away from Estella's band earlier that day. Something had spooked the normally quite aggressive, territorial being before they could detain or kill it.

With this group, it was more than likely a kill ending for the ashen feathered creature.

Just the thought that it had escaped brought another sharp movement across the woman's blade, the sparks of metal joining the fire before her. She blows out a breath and drops the stone back into her open satchel before dragging her hand through her curled locks.

It was why their leader; the hammer blockhead had set up camp nearby to the grounds they had found the Nargacuga before. 

What he hadn't stated was that was Estella's idea at the beginning of their quest, as they were running through with the expanded locale of the Coral Highlands looking for the damn thing. Running around in the old world as a researcher bodyguard had the added benefit of learning a thing or two.

Which was why she had stocked her slinger with pods ready to burst with sound. The nocturnal cat bird had sensitive ears for locating its prey.

Her hunting party was only good for one thing, finishing the creature off when money was involved. There was no bonding, no friendships, no feelings, strictly the fight and the reward afterwards. 

Estella glances at her accompanying shield, the shimmering metal was plain looking but had a devastating skill attached. Her dream weapon made come true with that lucky break during the festival.

Perfect challenger skill. 

Even her outfit helped with that skill of hers. The black roses adorning her waistcoat were not full of that trademark floral scent. No, it was heightening the pheromones that came off her sword and shield during combat whenever she wanted to take the heat off the rest of her teammates.

Besides, it was a lot easier to fight the monster when it wasn't a little bitch always running away from her hits and slices. She scoffs at that inner thought. The Nargacuga wouldn't get the chance to run off again. 

They had waited until night, the darkness in the Coral Highlands was not without its sources of light. The glow of the environment came from bioluminescence of the flora and fauna around them, giving an overall eeriness of the locale like tiny fireflies lighting a pathway. The moon above was not full, further diminishing their sight. 

In the distance, a low rumbling begins to arise, growing louder as it comes closer to the squad's location. A feline howl of pain echoes out that snaps them to their feet, forgoing the meal they had prepared as they run towards the aggressive snapping of coral foliage and the glow of the scout flies. Their lanterns allow them to watch their steps as they watch the blackened, wounded Nargacuga rush its way through past them.

Its huffs of pain are overshadowed by a loud horn like roar, metallic in sound that follows the escaping animal. Estella pauses in her stride, trying to pinpoint this mystery animal that was hunting their prey. Its shadow was clear, chasing this tired creature. A swift movement, the sound of a blade interrupts the locale, even while the rest of her team darts after it, likely thinking it would be an easy score that could result in two monsters for the price of one.

Nargacuga's trademark screeching trill sounds out sharply, its body twisting and fumbling away before it collapses onto its side, unable to get up right away.

Now mewling in obvious pain.

Estella gasps silently as she steps back, something flying to land in her previous spot of stay. The Nargacuga's splintered tail lays before her, gaping with the marks of repeated tears and lacerations from the fight it had been in, blood now pouring to paint the pink coral red below it.

Her eyes watch the appendage for a moment longer, the breakaway spines had been torn in some places and others were still twitching with the last of its muscle strength. 

When she looks back up to the scene before her, she can clearly tell that her hunting party is taking advantage of the downed Nargacuga, their belt attached lanterns thrumming with orange lights that dart around the panicked form of the battered cat wyvern.

Even at the distance she was at, she could see that obvious wounds the creature had sustained, cracked beak with multiple cuts dripping with crimson liquid. The wails only growing louder as it tries to bat away the hunters during its return to its feet, unsteadily and unable to spring away from the team and twist into an attack.

Instead, the Nargacuga is more focused on trying to run away than combat all the attackers crowding the large beast. Which only slows its progress.

The sword and shield woman grips her gray and silver lined gloves as she makes the motion to help her enthused team before her eyes catch the movement of the predator their prey was running from previously. Its shambling form beginning to stray over to her, creaks of metal and hollow sounding growls murmuring in its throat.

She could feel the cold run down her spine.

Her. 

A fierce hunter that can stare down a Bazelgeuse, a Rathalos, a Diablos, and this creature, without even seeing what it looked like was sending the vibes of prey coursing through her veins as she grabs her sword and braces her shield.

If she could help it, she wasn't going to antagonize this creature without knowing it. Without seeing it.

Or knowing its definite size or attributes that could be attached to its body.

She could hear the weight this creature had to its body, the crunch of coral and jelly mushroom pads under its heavy paws.

The first thing Estella notices about this creature is its own broken looking jaw and then the bulging white eye that seems to be blind as it is unmoving even in the face of the hunter a clear few feet away from its own head as it moves into the light of her own lantern. 

Teeth were mangled and disproportionate to each other like they were placed in there individually instead of being grown in naturally. It snatches the severed tail within its maw and then slides it down its throat with ease as it lifts its head back away from the lantern, away from the female hunter.

Estella could hear the sounds of its throat moving the appendage down towards its stomach. Creaks of metal echoing as it moves.

She had never seen a creature with a snout like this predator had, it had scraps of metal piecing together two sides of a skull, flesh hanging off like something with effluvium rot but no creature she had seen down in the Rotten Vale had this beast's colorings, its teeth, the white eye. There was so many things that were wrong with this creature and she had only seen the barest of its snout within the orange glow of her light and dull moon above.

When it finally faced away from her, Estella watches it limp towards the Nargacuga, the hunter party that had been able to once again, knock the catbird over as it panics even further, wailing its discontent.

The vicious carnivore now takes its time going over to them, likely realizing that the Nargacuga was easy at this point and unable to run any longer. Estella could hear the whistle her party leader sounds when there is a suspected turf war to occur, free hits, the freedom to do in-combat sharpening and to catch their breath. The other two hunters follow his lead and pull back from the sleek ebony wyvern to allow this unknown to do its own damage.

That is before the shadowed creature brings down its sharpened claws like a sucker punch to the stomach, the sheer force could be heard from the wind pressure around it. A sickening snap coming from the downed cat wyvern as the body stops moving, going slack.

"Hey!" Estella could hear shouted from her bowman in the silence that ensued after the death of the Nargacuga, no death shriek as the team was used to, just the brief struggle and then, no movement at all.

Apparently, their self-preservation wasn't strong as the dual daggers and the bowman both began attacking the paw of this large creature, intending to get it off the body that they had to take back for their reward.

"Get over here Estella!" The hammer hunter hisses in irritation. "You haven't helped at this quest at all!" 

"What the fuck are you thinking!? Get away from that thing!" The female hunter screams back, beginning to run to her party members' aid, only to witness something that happens in quick succession of the blatant attacks the two fired on to this enigma.

It should have been no surprise, but the predator retaliated, letting out that drumming horn of a roar, pitched with aggression before swatting both hunters away with one swipe alone. Her ears are still rattled by the sound but Estella still picks up the sounds of her companions' bodies hitting the coral walls around them, hearing the yelps in pain, just as easily as the snap of the Nargacuga neck before it.

"Shit!" The leader exclaims, eyes drifting to his downed teammates curled in a heap. His hammer slips from his grip enough that when the creature roars again, he isn't prepared for the tail to come slicing in his direction.

"Captain!" Estella yells, her speed ever increasing before lining up her shield with a brace to the majority of the its swing, coming in between her teammate and this menace.

She can feel the bruising weight and scratch of metal against her shield before she can even realize with a startled scream that it had batted her into the air, and she was soaring away from the fight, away from her teammates.

A longer distance than any monster had thrown her before.

Estella was even leaving the Coral Highlands, heading into the uncharted Sea of Trees if the unbroken canopy tops shielding the unending foliage below it was anything to go by.

The last thing her violet eyes view of the fight is her commander being struck and the lantern that illuminated him being snuffed out.

Her scream carries as she rockets through the sky, quickly flipping to have her shield toward the ground to break through safely.

Well as safely as one can while shooting down to the ground after being launched like a toy by a massive unknown monster.

She steels herself, no longer making a fuss as she hits the first tree's branches, grunting with discomfort as she continues this way with her descent. Limbs snapping under her weight before she plummets soundly to the ground, a nice jutting rock to break her fall with a bounce.

Estella gasps in pain, her shield tossed to her side as she pats her body for any injuries besides the bruising that would register to her later. 

In the distance, she could hear the horn like roar, knowing that the creature had completed whatever task it had in mind. 

And her crew were more than likely dead.

And she was lost. 

In the Sea of Trees, where only the S-ranked hunters were allowed to venture because of its twisting, confusing structure. It was much too vast, a trap that was pitch black before her. Even the hole created from her body barely gave her any light to work with.

"Damnit." Estella mutters, getting up on her shaky legs before grabbing her shield. A quick scan of her location gives her nothing, or rather that there wasn't any noisy predators about to deliver a fatal blow to her. She snaps her attention to her scout flies, a gloved hand giving them a quick shake and noticing the dim glow that they cast off.

She tenses immediately when ears pick up the telltale sign of a twig snapping nearby. A shape enters her field of light and she goes into her defensive posture, shield raised, and sword drawn at her side.

Instead of the maw of death filled with immense teeth, the figure of a hunter jumps from a gnarled root to meet her. His helmet casting a red glow from the eyepieces. 

Decorating his body is bones and scales of various monsters, even horns attached to his helmet. Kinds that seemed familiar to Estella. Diablos, Bazelgeuse, but some bones, spines were different and new to her. Maybe even from a monster only found here in the Sea of Trees.

She had never seen this hunter before, or the weapon of choice located on his back. And Estella prided herself on her observation skills when not in battle.

"Who are you?" She questions, barely loosening her grip on her defense. This man had not shown he was friendly, or at least civil.

The hunter grunts, swiveling his head before stopping in front of her. "Shut your mouth, unless you want to draw more here." He reasons, voice low and quiet, his hand motioning her to him as he turns away. "Follow if you wish to keep living." 

He begins to walk away, even with armor as large as his, the long sword adding even more weight to it, his footfalls were quiet. This man had made a sound for her benefit, not for a lack of competence. 

Estella barely has to think before she has her shield lowered and stowed with her sword and is keeping pace beside the man with timid footsteps to keep quiet as they leave the area that no doubt an opportunistic predator or two would be searching in no time.

But he seems to know the area and hadn't done anything to warrant her ire or distrust just yet.


	3. Chapter 3

The blanket of darkness began to lift as the two hunters trekked through the twisted undergrowth. Although it was dim because of the unbroken canopy above them, bits of light shone down from small crevices between the leaves. Still no conversation was sought, keeping quiet as the lone hunter had warned. Previously, Estella had heard the roars of disappointed monsters from behind them, not finding the easy prey they had wanted.

But now that they were alone, Estella had let her mind wander. What benefit does this hunter get from helping her sorry ass? Her purple eyes narrow into the man's back in front of her, fingers twitching lightly, wanting to tug out her sword, be ready at a moment's notice to defend herself. 

She had no idea if he was leading her out of this zone or even further into it. The Sea of Trees was not an easy place to navigate, even to S-rank hunters. And as for her, less so, only hearing stories, seen ecological paintings and maps, but none of those would help her return to Astera or at the least, a location she did know.

"Estella." The woman announces in the quiet air, releasing her tension tightening her muscles. She could already feel those bruises settling into her skin as she walked.

The hunter before her barely gave pause or moved his head to give her recognition. "Mike." He responds in kind.

Sensing no irritation from her speaking, Estella continues. "Why are you helping me?" She asks bluntly.

At this, Mike swiftly turns to face her, his shoulders drawn up in an intimidating manner, or would be for any creature that witnessed the gesture. "I want you out of my territory. You'll bring noise." He huffs in answer. "You're bad for prey, especially with that stunt you pulled."

The battle-ready male lets out a quiet growl before turning away once again, now moving toward a heavily scarred tree, pressuring bone guarded fingers into the grooves. This time a grunt sounds and a nod of his head, beckoning Estella to follow, to climb.

She wasn't sure to be relieved he had intentions or rage over his annoyance of her presence. She wisely chose the former, not wanting or needing to get into a fight with another hunter, even with his attitude.

Mike was the only one of them who knew the way out of this maze of trunks, vines, and branches.

The sword and shield wielder follows in the long sword's handholds up the tree trunk that was as wide as a gluttonous Great Jagras. The holds were smoothed out with age and covered in the greenery that collected on every other surface in the area. Mike had certainly used it in his past.

The climb seemed to be as long as their previous traveling, but Estella knew it wasn't truly. They had started to reach the bottom of the canopy line, where thicker branches had grown from the trunk and thickets of leaves blocked the sky above.

Her purple eyes watch as Mike pulls away from the main trunk and follows a branch, suspended by just his arms before flipping himself upright with a grunt, weathered boots biting into the bark with small gripping prongs in the heels. He comes thundering back to her with no fear of falling, pulling her up with ease onto the branch beside him.

"Come, up these branches." Mike users, pointing to selectively chopped branches and vines that made its way around the trunk like a spiral staircase.

"Wow." Estella mutters under her breath, her annoyance to being handled like a researcher or worse, a handler, fading as she trudges up the sturdy log stars, unable to see anything around her as her vision is blocked by the leaves of the canopy.

Like being inside a cloud.

A green cloud, but still.

Finally, finally they make it to the top, the dim morning light shining on her with familiarity now.

Mike surveys their surroundings with her, pointing to the light-colored spires in the distance. "That is where you came from." He states. "And where I will take you."

Estella glares at the background, those spires had done nothing to prevent her launching into a whole other zone, like a terrible safety net. "I don't know what the fuck that thing was, but it had the presence of evil." She mutters.

That seized Mike's attention, making the hunter grasp at his belt and push into her personal space with vigor. "What did you see of it? The color, the size?" He questions quickly, gruff eagerness in his voice. His hand shakes the quilled belt around his waist, the large black spines dangling from his hold were thick as bone even. "Did it have anything like this on its body? Describe its roar!"

Estella clenches her teeth, backing away from the agitated man with a grip on her weapon. "Back up man!" She snarls with a hot-blooded temper. 

At her 'request', Mike scoffs, drawing away with a turn of his body and begins to pace pensively on the treetop platform in front of her. And all at once, he stops and sits down cross-legged, pulling the sword from his back and laying it beside him with ease. "Tell me what you know of this creature that sent you here in my territory." He requests once again, a low even tone in his voice as he controls his enthusiasm.

The woman blows out a heated breath to settle her emotions before sitting parallel to the hunter, doing the same with her weapons. "My team were on a routine quest that lasted into the night. The isolation of the locale made it difficult to tell what type of creature it was that began attacking us." She gives pause to rustle a hand through her hair in a nervous gesture, shaking away the cold feeling that began to surface. 

The long swordsman did not interrupt her.

"From what little I saw of it, it looked like it shouldn't exist. Shouldn't be living or moving for that matter. Like it was barely hanging onto the skeleton it was made from, pieced together from each small part. A big milky white bulging eye was right in my face when it lowered itself." Estella describes, hands going up to her own face before framing it down the middle. "Its skull was like it was stapled together straight down the middle crudely. There was metal on it, I could hear it like the weight was causing it to bend from the stress when it moved." She feels that cold chill down her back again recounting the creature's sound. "I don't know what you were looking for, but it sounded like a horn in a cave, echoing loudly. It took down a Nargacuga with one slam of its paw, so it must've been huge."

Mike pulls off his helmet with a scowl and settles it down to pinch at the bridge of his nose with irritation. His dark chestnut colored hair spiked away from his face and decorated with braids that warriors in Seliana and the Old World's deep north would do to show their worth with smaller ones contained in his beard. Carved bone beads were locked in the strands, each from a different monster, a catalogue of those he's hunted. Four solid scars littered his face, three above his right eye and one running down the other orbit, showing that he did not always have that helmet when he fought. His icy blue eyes glare lightly at Estella before he shakes his head. "It is not the one I'm looking for. But you will take me to this site. If there is a creature of that power, I will hunt it." He orders, a glint of pride in his tone.

Estella rolls her eyes before puffing out a breath. "Whatever you say, Mike."

~x~

Compared to her impromptu flight the night before, she enjoyed the trek back immensely more, more in control this time around. What Estella didn't enjoy was the reminder that her team was in horrible shape, or dead. Among the coral platforms were the smoldering embers of their camp, their tent went even properly put up when the ordeal had occurred. But with it, came the welcomed presence of other hunters, people at the location already trying to make sense of the destruction.

Estella's lilac eyes brighten at the sight, rushing to a trot to the people collecting samples and looking over the cracked coral and jelly mushrooms that had been smushed entirely. "Hey!" She exclaims, waving a hand.

There was no corpses, monster, or hunter on the scene, that Nargacuga had been eaten just like its tail, but it was strange that nothing remained, no blood, bones, or flesh to mark where it had perished. All that persisted were those cracked circular depressions. 

"I was here when this happened!" She states, leaving behind the disgruntled hunter that set on his own tracking, growling, and huffing at any researcher or curious hunter that came his way. Although there was not many when they saw the weapon that was stuck on his back. 

"Mike!" The sword and shield wielder shouts, getting a huff in return as he turns back to face her. "Thanks." She merely murmurs, giving him a nod and a flourish of her hand before she heads off with perplexed and concerned people surrounding her at all angles. Some grabbing at her bruises with vigorwasp gels and tonics laced in bandages. Others brandishing paper and pens to take down her statements.

The lone hunter shakes his head before continuing his investigation, his prickly nature offsetting the people around him, allowing him to keep his thoughts quiet and his own. The marks were familiar to a degree, obviously not the same creatures that had been mucking up his territories but had the same motivations at the least. Estella's descriptions had been the same, creaking metal, the horn melody from the monster were all signs that Mike had heard often, but just like her, had never been able to pinpoint a singular monster. No sighting to go off of either. He had always been too late to find it and the scout flies didn’t work; the horn seemed to put them in a daze.

Like it was the right frequency to numb them, to set off the fear response in any creature, or person for that matter, that heard it.

Mike went on expeditions to the bowels of the Rotten Vale regularly, seen horrid beings drift in and out of the farther down, Misty Abyss, that was just bleached bones and eerie fumes, always silent and sullen. And a native like him had been creeped out by the sound. 

Experience was on his side, but that didn't stop him from feeling this dread. As Estella had said, the creature was not to exist.

~x~

Whisper glances around the port with excitement in her veins. Her headdress billowing gently as she turns her head in different directions, even the smell was different from the air of the Old World. Fresh. New.

A mewl at her feet focuses her once more, pale eyes looking at the miffed palico waiting for her. A soft smile erupts onto her face before she ruffles the fur on his head. "Sorry, Warrior." She murmurs quietly. "Lead me to the old Rajang then." 

Warrior nods sharply, twisting his body forward and begins tracking his master. Hopefully, the old man was still at Astera and not on another one of his adventures. The researcher trusted the palico beside her, trusted herself even, but she didn't want to waltz into the environments in the New World without a proper escort.

A map could suffice if necessary. Damn the admiral and his infectious gallivanting. 

Well him and her old man.

Speaking of, the news traveled that the admiral had his own band of descendants running around. His son had remained in the Old World, but his grandson had followed his footsteps.

Quite literally it seemed, being in Astera with the old hunter to become the next leader. But that was as far as news had crossed for the researcher, no details of accomplishments, nor feats of strength. Merely that the young hunter was stationed in the New World with his grandfather.

Perhaps he was part of Estella's group? But then again, with the admiral as his mentor, as his role model, it was unlikely that he would let his kin hunt for zeni.

'It's for the thrill, for the balance. The respect between two animals pitted against each other for survival! The strength of their will to survive being tested and every battle is a testament to your life, to your knowledge and understanding. It is a way of life just like yours is to doodle in that little pad of yours. ' The admiral had once told her with glee, enthusiasm as he had slapped her roughly on the back and laughed boisterously.

Whisper smiles, shaking her head, perking as Warrior had finally began to move. His little body bouncing through the parting crowd with ease. The palico was as much as a celebrity as she was. But at least here, in the New World, she was a rumor still to the younger hunters. She enjoyed the bustle around her as people went about their business, vendors selling their wares, the melder stirring her larger-than-herself pot with a hum, guild handlers conversing about which quests would be taken first by the hunters, and those that would be appropriate for their rank.

Her wear was certainly eye-catching with its unusual color, the night sky trapped in fabric, but not enough for anyone to stop her. More than likely thinking it was a cosmetic choice during its creation with the smithy because of the festival that had copied her dress when it was first crafted for her father.

It was still a popular set among the more fashionable of hunters, that, and couples.

Warrior yowls again, stopping in his tracks as he looks over the broken bodies of three hunters. Hammer, dual daggers, and a bowman. Bloodied and cracked armor adorning them as they are carted on stretchers to the healer's bay. No signs of noticeably life, but they wouldn't be uncovered unless they didn't think they could be saved. The hammer wielder did have a cloth covering his face, he would not be returning to the field. His body was broken like a doll, and from the looks of it, the hunters carrying him had splintered his bones back into a more presentable image. The lacerations were bones had carved their way through were still there, open, and ugly. Her eyes watch with a sense of concern washing over her. Was this a part of the admiral's hunch?

Isn't this more than a hunch at this point?

Whisper grits her teeth, closing her eyes to steel herself from the sight. But not to forget, to forge ahead.

"Warrior." She mumbles, tone low and the command clear. 'Keep going.'

The old palico meows deep, giving his brawny little body a good shake before pouncing forward even faster than previously. His conviction agreed. 

The researcher kept pace, palico bounding in front of her and leading her to several cases of wooden stairs that curled around the port's beach. It led down, away from the eyes of hunters, and instinctively, Whisper knew this was the way to the command room, where decisions were made without the prying eyes of the people that lived here. Where the 'top dogs' could prevent a panic, or a mob that rained down on a threat.

Even when the woman was closing into the door ahead, she could hear that loud voice that she had heard many times during her youth. The admiral.


	4. Chapter 4

The large door before her was decorated in fangs and talons of previous battles, small mementos to remember the monster they came from. All presented in a visually pleasing manner along the wood of the entrance, aligned by size and settled with the structure of the door overall. 

Whisper admired the detail placed into the arrangement, thin fingers gliding over the ones she could reach. Without looking at her journal she could tell where they originated, their history coded into the nicks, scratches and rings etched genetically into the tools that were once attached to powerful and beastly frames. Fierce creatures that were overcome by the admiral, not for glory but the wealth of the environment, for balance to be restored.

It was the code of hunters.

Hunt that which does harm to the balance of life, the ecosystem it is affecting negatively. Never for your own glory, but for survival.

It was the downfall of the Wyverians so long ago. From what little remnants historians and researchers could gleam at least. They soared above the skyline like a Rathian, only to be brought crashing down by a flashbug because of their own hubris.

Elder dragons were sentient beings much like them, but Wyverians took folly when they underestimated them, and a war broke out between the society and the monsters. At the cost of both civilizations being tore apart and start once again at the beginning, leaving nothing substantial. 

They took too much, harmed too much, destroyed the very ground their castles stood upon. And the hideous abomination they harvested and created was best left as a disgusting thought trapped in the mind of a demented scientist. It was fair to say, that detail of history was set ablaze by people like the admiral, rather than leave it to the public to discover. 

To imitate. And begin a self-destructing process all over again. Perhaps this time there would be no one to rise from the ashes like before.

A soft worn paw grazes her leg to bring her attention back to her companion, a look of concern gracing the palico's face. Warrior was a wonderful little companion, an oddity much like Meowscular Chef that the Admiral had picked up after the previous feline had retired. He had drive in his larger than most form and had served his hunter well in his adventures.

"Well, here we go Warrior." Whisper murmurs, finally giving the large door a steady push, tapping into the lithe strength she had to have to run with hunters of all classes, and to outrun monsters of all classes. 

The room was decorated largely the same as the door, leather, scales, and bones littered the space. Including the skull and horns of a Rajang planted above the head of the table's seat, a rare joke gift the Huntsman had given the Admiral, which only fueled fire for his nickname. The Huntsman having referred him to a beast of a man, so much so you could mistake him for a Rajang.

At the sight, the quiet researcher lets out a soft chuckle, covering the sound with the back of her hand as she steps fully inside the room and allowing the door to close with a thunderous thunk. If the occupants weren't alerted to her presence before, they were now with the shimmer of violet before their eyes and the bellowing mewl of Warrior as he pads over to the burly man standing beside the sprawled out map on the enormous wooden table, monsters carved on the sides and legs it stood out.

Her pale blue eyes catch the ones of the Admiral and the Commander, discussing their situation and plans of attack.

"Hello Ragnar, Aldrich." Whisper greets, striding towards the old hunters with ease. Despite their battle prowess and social position, the young woman could easily state these two were like family at this point, being around for much of her past to call upon her mother or father for their odd sightings and hard quests alike. 

But even with this knowledge, it did little to stop the taller of the two from letting out a boisterous laugh and crushing her in a tight hug that lifted her from the ground with ease. One that certainly made her lose the air in her lungs like a Paolumu. "Whisper! You made it in one piece I see!" All at once she was back on the ground and sucking in as much oxygen as possible. "I knew Warrior would get to you, could never say no to a palico!" He continues, ruffling her cowl and hair by extension, treating as much as a child as possible.

The Commander simply gives the shaken woman a sympathetic pat on her shoulder as she struggles to correct her gear. "It is good to see you returned the message, we've been having quite the difficult time, deciding how to proceed with this current threat." He states, resuming his position of glaring at the map and rubbing at his chin in thought.

The Admiral gives a welcoming rub to a grinning Warrior, a deep thrumming purr resounding from his large chest. "You did a great job my friend!" He praises with a grand smile.

Once she had her breath again, Whisper gives a small shake of her shoulders, a sighing worming out of her lips before looking at the men more seriously. "Yes, that was the reason I came. Ragnar, you sounded distressed in the letter, and you sent Warrior to deliver it. I knew it was of the upmost importance." She murmurs, pulling out the letter and planting it below the map among the countless other writings she could see, reports from other people here in the New World.

The striking golden blonde man huffs, displeasure deflating his booming nature. "Something has been occurring in the New World, not like anything we've seen before." He says grimly, crossing his burly arms over his barreled chest. "More so than the Magdaros event. Maybe on par with Ishavalda, we aren't too sure at the moment."

Aldrich takes over, guiding the young researcher to look over the detailed New World map that they had, it was ruined by bright red painted X's in scattered locations. Numerous ones, no locale was left untarnished by their presence. The border of the Sea of Trees had a single question mark located near it.

"All over I've had hunters, handlers and researchers come to me with reports of strange sightings or one-sided turf wars that result with a creature either disappearing or absconding to another locale and then disappearing." The Commander recalls with a frown. "A new creature has been tearing through the food chain with ease, it doesn't matter what type or order the monster in question is, the unknown will go after it. There is no pattern that we have discerned."

Whisper remains silent, absorbing the knowledge with ease but confusion etching itself with it. Her hands run through the reports, scanning them for basic facts for now.

Ragnar scoffs with a shake of his head. "Even I and Warrior heard this creature. But we were unable to catch a glimpse of it. In all my years of hunting, I could tell you what each monster's roar sounds like." His eyes narrow lightly, pointedly looking at the eyes of the woman as he continues. "I have never heard a roar like this that could send chills down my spine. It was unnatural." A flash of fear lingers briefly before he blinks, and it is gone.

The violet haired woman bites her lip lightly. The Admiral's words were not to be taken with a grain of salt. The creature was a menace and a tool of destruction leaving environments in ruins with spiraling vacant holes in their chains of order. But if she didn't take this job, who would? She was Whisper of the Silence, the long-standing line of researchers that had helped cement the Hunter's way of life as it is now. This would be her first break, a chance for something fresh and unknown, entirely unknown.

Her curiosity outweighed her fear. Her want to help outweighed that. "I'll do my best to find the answer to your problems. To find this creature and its motives." She answers, looking at both elders before her, watching the ranges of relief that set in after her response. It was accompanied by concern. 

"You'll be needing a good team to keep guard over you." Aldrich states sternly. 

"You don't know anyone in the New World yeah?" Ragnar bursts out loudly, a grin etching on his face once more. "My grandson is in a fairly good band, great teamwork." He comments, slinging an arm around the small woman's shoulders and giving her good shake.

"Thank you, Ragnar, but I have a vague idea on my team. One of my associates came here on a previous ship. Estella?" Whisper smiles, patting the older man's arm to console him at her decline. 

Both men share a look, confusion now marring it before it turns darker, serious once more. Aldrich is the one that states what both are thinking. "You recall the injured and dead that were just carted correct? They were part of Estella's group and were a part of what happened last night." He explains with a grim expression.

The researcher's face turns blank at this news, lips parting to ask further, but no words could escape her suddenly parched throat.

The Admiral's arm gently pulls away from her shoulders and rubs at the back of his head. Warrior coming up to pat at her hip, mewling in worry.

"We're not even sure where Estella is. She wasn't with the rest of her companions." Ragnar finishes, leaving the unspoken nature of her fate up in the air. But it was clear, they were not expecting her to be alive still with how the scene was when they appeared and by how much time had passed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let us dive on the other side of the balance.

The low hum of the everstream crystals is what woke the old creature from its rest. Slitted pupils dilating as they affix to the dim light surrounding him. No other creature would be caught down in these caverns so close to the everstream, to the elder energy that inhabited the environment in such high doses. There was no need for worry in his territory for trespassers.

The large beast pulls up from his curled position among the nest he has created over the decades of life he has known. Giving a stretch that fluffed and straightened the blackened quills transfixed on his body, furrows in the ground as his claws knead in his daily routine. This was a safe area to be so carefree and lazy with his awakening. A great yowling yawn erupts from his fanged maw, echoing deep through the twisting tunnels to the surface.

The sound brightens the crystals that marked the circular den, and throughout the tunnel, which he begins to tread through to leave his home. His wings braces against his bulky muscular form as the cave path was beginning to be too small to traverse with ease like in his younger years as a juvenile. Even younger breeds were wary of his imposing size, a hope that they could never gain unless they grew out of their bravado and became more wary of their place in the chain of life.

He is the apex, and one that must keep order rather than bend it to his form, lest he become another one of the many that have fallen to the small 'hunters' that have further infested the lands. The newer generation had at least changed their outlook, now aligning to the balance rather than their predecessors that many of his kind had ended in the war. A tale he was taught as a pup to abide and remember.

The large beast makes it to the entrance of his caverns, now able to spread his dangerous wings, easing the efforts of slumber that had made him restless. His spines perk from his spine and rattle gently from his bodily shake, a few falling off his frame with dull thuds, among the others that had done so previously. New ones grew quickly to close the hole in his natural armor. 

His piercing eyes look out to the land before him, the beautiful changing world that was his home. The great forests, dry wastes, humid mists, corroding corpses, the land ocean, the glowing caverns, the high mountains, all of it was his home. The quadruped felt a sense of pride in the sight that greeted him this morning, a snuff huffing out his nose as he sat in the small peace he was granted.

The rumbling of his stomach broke it before long, a reminder. His wings open wide while his body shifts to launch himself off the perch that was the opening to his den. With one solid motion, he pushes off, scattering the quills, scales and black shavings that naturally come from his body to the world below the cliff face. 

His mind controlled his hunger, his sense would not allow him to pick off a lesser being without probable cause. He would abide by nature but not cause it to suffer by his ways. The first that came to mind was the offenders of this golden rule, the devastators that broke environments for any number of selfish reasons. And sometimes, that would bring him to hunt down others of his kind, the supposedly intelligent monsters that realized the effects of their abilities but continued anyways, harming the balance to the brink of extinction.

Their meat left a pit in his stomach after the battle was finished.

And to think, his species was fine tuned to prey upon them as a source of food.

Such a picky life.

The beast pauses his musings, a sense of iron meeting his nose, wings fixing his movements to follow the scent that erupts through the mists, close to the cramped forest that swallows light. His golden eyes sight his prey, a large green bipedal monster full of teeth and rage. These marshy lands was not its home, yet it tramples through it, ripping apart any monster that it comes across, tossing them around.

His maw pulls back into a snarl, showing his deadly incisors, even the two on his lower jaw that looked like tusks. His leathery wings curl close, diving down to his target like an arrow as a barrage of quills and claws. The attack topples the great beast, sending it splashing through the water before them and takes the scattered roots of trees to break its folly. 

The quilled monster pulls up to stand on his four limbs, body tensing to make it bigger, more deadly, wings coming behind him to show his strength and even with a dive like that, his thin appendages adorning his body had not lose its luster or sharpness. A rumbling forms in his throat as he sizes up the disoriented creature, transforming into a deep bellowing roar. 

His prey struggles to get back up, waters giving no help and the lack of long forelimbs led it to teeter to its sides, bulky tail swishing and taking up just as much as the rest of its body. The reptile answers with a roar of its own, battle scars opening with its indignation of this apex hunting it. Dark blood spills into the shallow waters below them from both its own old wounds and the new ones inflicted with spikes from the dive into its form. 

He is now its target, leaving the slender ambush dragon it had trapped in its maw alone to scatter away from the impending battle.

Those small creatures, 'hunters', named this creature a devil for its ferocity in a fight. 

The passing thought allows the green creature to rush forward, jaws open wide to go for one of his large horns, perhaps his neck or wing, something to pull and rip from his body. It didn't have the size to pick up his body like any other creature, as he was just as giant as it was, perhaps even bigger. 

He snarls, jolting to the side as the jaws snap at nothing, his paw raising up with deadly precision and slamming into the head of the monster before him, once again flinging it to its back. This time, not allowing it to recover as he jumps after, gaining height with a powerful thrust of his wings and once again diving into the flailing beast. 

The beast kicks out with thick hind legs, tail swinging with weight behind each swish and its jaw snap at every opportunity as he tries to pin it into submission to deliver the fatality. Wounds pulse with the eerie dark dust of Dragon, the condition that weakens and softens what it hits. Its resort to help in this fight, to get him to back off to recover from the uneasy hold he had on it.

Another roar echoes out his chest, a dull thrum in his throat as he feels his body lighten. The black peeling off his quills and his own glow rivaling this 'devil.' Energy conflicts, razor quills driving into the reptile's form with a flap of his wings when it freezes with fear at the sight. Red beady eyes widening in its sockets, knowing his existence as apex, knowing there was no way to survive his attacks. That he wasn't just another of his kind that lived to fight the strongest.

The monster below him yells in pain, the spines piercing in the exact spots to hinder his movements, their glow was both beautiful and frightening. And with its sudden submission came the just as sudden fatal blow. 

The old creature opens his maw wide going for the creature's throat, teeth tearing through the tough skin easily, a brief struggle issues with the pain, a broken warble with its last breath as its body drains of life, leaving a feast for the victor.

He takes his time with his meal, pulling and tearing into the meat left behind by the prey, even eating the spikes that he used to pierce its flesh. Their glow and color losing its radiance now that he was without a fight and all was calm. The marshes would be able to flourish once more with the defeat of this tyrant. The body would feed scavengers after he left to scour the lands for other threats that had occurred during his rest.

The beast picks at his paws, pulling the foliage trapped between his talons before moving to cleaning his wings, feeling quite satisfied with his actions. His head suddenly perks up, body still and taut with ready energy. He gives a loud snuffle with his nose, jaws opening slightly to give a taste to the air as well. The smell and taste of the humid earthy air met his senses, but in it, he could tell. 

The tiny hunter covered in raging scales and quills. 

Even the warrior could not silence the waters he was forced to rush in to fight this old creature. His bright eyes spots the blackened small thing, a gruff rumble of amusement pouring out his throat, much to the chagrin of his adversary. His long wings pull away from his body and just before the 'large' blade could meet his deadly tail, he pulls into the skies above the hunter, quickly leaving.

There was no point in fighting the battle-hardened hunter when he was not a threat to him or the ecosystem. He hadn't been able to land a wound with his considerable defenses. His ears prick at the sound of the aggravated outcry the tiny being unleashes as he rode the winds to another destination.

Another scent meets his nose, more iron and decay to accompany it. His body tenses with rage as he follows the trail into the dry wastes where the sun hit the hardest. He touches down outside a sand dune cave, blood splatters and an uneven pattern of tracks leading into the darkened tunnel. A sharp wail of pain gives way that forces the monster to run into the cave without another thought, his eyes quickly adjusting to the lack of light. 

It isn't long with the obvious tracks left behind from the victim, a smaller creature from the frantic paw prints left in the impressionable grounds below him. As he closes in, he sees the predator.

His teeth grits tightly, a snarl has him bracing in his offensive position before unleashing a louder one to gain its attention. How dare it exist when its form was so heavy with decay and death. The body pieced together and unnatural to form the shape of a monster and pinned under it was a yellow quadruped, striped in blue and looking in fear. A brave monster reduced to a timid thing from the eerie predator that made it its prey. It was tired and could fight no longer, muscles expending energy from running with no avail. And for how long did it keep up this chase, it was uncertain. 

The thing teeters, long neck coming around to view him with unblinking eyes of unmatching size. A crude design. But the aggression was still palpable on his palate, a snap of his jaws grips the long tail, going through a tough material that didn't fit easily as scales, but bent under the force of his teeth. A tug on his end forces the creature off the smaller one and with it, unsteadies the long fat lizard. A drumming honk sends a chill down his spine that pricks his sharp appendages even higher, getting close to shedding the black shell that surrounds them. 

The monster starts pulling the being back through the tunnel, to fight it within the open world. His large body would be hindered by the tight space of the dry caves that the small creature chose as a hiding place. His efforts were met with the quick snaps of aggression from the undead creature in his grip. He could taste everstream instead of blood pouring into his maw from the shredding of its skin. 

Tainted and filled with horrible intentions.

Once he feels the winds at his back, he swings the enemy away, it having more weight than he had assumed. The prey from before came pouring out after the creature was removed, its body language screaming victim as it tucked its head down low towards the ground. In a different time, this creature would react much like the green monster of the morning, eager to fight and show its prowess, even against him, a beast more than twice its size. Blue eyes meeting his own golden slitted pupils, a silent gratitude as it fled with hurried steps in a different direction. 

The long being he had thrown was quick to get back to its feet and without sparing him a glance, starts to go after the retreating form of the prey, eyes locked with unwavering dedication. Beside the aggression it displayed while trying to get free, it cares not for him now, like he doesn't exist unless he was in the way.

He hisses before launching into the air with a powerful thrust with quick wings and diving into the weird juxtaposition skin of this off creature, both hard and giving away easily to his force. His roar sounds before he can stop it, the thrumming glow giving way in his chest once more.

Black casings shave away from his quills, this time electrifying with more energy than in his previous fight for food. His eyes gleam with hatred as he tears into the creature with ferocity. 

The being below his paws issues its own honk of animosity, grating to the ears and its long body begins wrapping around his own muscular form like a python, regardless of the spikes that pierce its flesh. Its unhinged jaw goes for his throat, few teeth manage to wound him while others fall from the roots as they hadn't fit in the first place. Its hiss rattles wetly against his skin and he can feel the numbing spread from its bite, the two larger mangled teeth in its maw were the cause.

He begins to struggle, tearing more of the patchwork of gray blue and green skin that covered the beast's skeleton. The pillar spikes that formed its back glow and spark with white electricity before delivering a harsh shock that tenses his muscles and makes him give a sharp snarl in response. His spines straighten further under the stress of being constricted, tearing and scratching.

The old creature forces his back to arch, pushing off onto his hind legs as his tail swishes behind him, keeping his balance even with the uneven weight attached to him. His body goes through an aftershock of jolts, but he powers through it, stretching his wings with difficulty. The lacerations make the thing fall off and flail, losing the use of its own hind quarters, nerves severed after the constant defensive passive actions of his natural armor.

The paralysis agent coating those fangs isn't strong enough to run through his system with that low of a dose, as well as his body being quite larger in mass than his opponent. The enemy snaps his jaws again, still coming after him, not noticing the loss of its limbs, like the pain hadn't surfaced. Though the lacerations ran deep into the creature, close to the bone in some places.

Dark blue, iridescent in color drips from the wounds, corruption at its core. It lacks the shifting neon bright colorations that his own body produces from the everstream crystals he ingests. What changed the course of his nature.

He swings his tail, barbed and ready into the oncoming beast, stopping its onslaught. It yowls in an echoing throb, body losing its ability to listen to its mind, what little it had. Quills strike the splintered enemy and the area around it, glowing with dark magenta and lavender. His lips twitch, spreading his weight evenly before ducking his head down low.

A hiss of breath escapes him as he charges a powerful attack of energy, a similar glow erupting from his chest and throat before he throws his head back in a resonating howl. The thrown spikes etched in the slow-moving serpent beginning to pulse rapidly and then vaporizes in a shower of light, connecting into a larger explosion of fire that glows blue in glow. With the everstream collected in its veins, this effect was heightened and far more intense than it would've been on a normal creature. He can still hear the grating of joints from the creature as it suffers under the barrage, its life extinguished with a wail that traveled far and wide in the land. 

A message to others of its unnatural kind.

He pants with exertion in his blood, muscles tiring from his battle, claws digging into the sand tightly with wired nerves. His slitted eyes cross over to the corpse, incinerated and left scorching from his everstream. Unidentifiable besides a blackened skeleton, melted scales that were affixed to its being and the sludge that once coated its insides. There was a second corpse within this large serpent, a feline monster that had broken bones and a sliced tail, battered with malintent. 

Its skull was crushed in and neck bent at a horrible angle as it was lying with the thing's stomach, no digestion had occurred. Instead, it was kept in the condition that it had entered the being's system. The black quilled wyvern was beaten, bloodied and bruised, and with his own attack, now burned to a lesser extent of its carnivorous aggressor. 

The giant beast sounds a huff, trilling at the end as he readies his wings, intent on washing the muck and blood off his body and he would get nowhere with that by being in the dry lands. 

Let this corpse be his own message that this land, that he, would not condone these actions that defy the balance. He pulls off the ground, kicking up sand and dust in his midst and sets his next course to the floating waterfalls close to his den.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for it taking a bit more time to write this chapter. I have a few more characters to introduce and getting the information from the real people is taking more time than I considered. This chapter didn't even exist until a few days before posting this. But I think it gives a new sense of mystery to this plot now and introduces a new player in the field. Although his identity will remain hidden for now.
> 
> The writing style is different for this chapter only because I wanted the identity to be vague enough that you question yourself. I tried to be concise in my language that you can still grasp what is occurring.


	6. Chapter 6

The gossiping huntress giggles, her eyes set on a lone male at a round table in the corner of the canteen. Her sister in arms continues to whisper in her ear of the dramatic tale he had caused over his supposed 'encounter' with a serpentine Tobi-Kadachi.

"You see that mark on his back?" She questions, barely hiding her pointing finger to show the other the lightening mark that races across his shoulder and down his back under the leisurely clothing issued to hunters for inbetween their quests.

Skin wasn't so easily marred and bones not so easily broken over the years that people had been battling monsters. To have been tagged by a creature spoke of how fierce it was or how foolish the hunter had been.

And a measly Tobi-Kadachi, it was unheard of. A creature that was naturally passive towards the sight of hunters.

"No way, seriously?" The huntress remarks before snickering behind her hand.

"Oh yeah, and you know what he told everyone? 'It was a different Kadachi, bigger and more snake-like. Gold scales and barbs sticking out of its head like horns!'" The other utters, imiditating a panicked man's voice.

"It wasn't a Viper?"

"There wasn't any poison traces on him or the area where he encountered it." She waves off a haughty smirk on her face. "Just a normal Tobi-Kadachi."

"OH man, that's embarrassing! Isn't he the Admiral's grandson? That's some big shoes to full and he's already made a fool of himself." The woman murmurs, a disbelieving expression adorning her.

A hand grasps at her mug of ale before it gets dumped on both women, giving shrieks of surprise. Their startled and angry eyes meet that of a silver haired male, braided locks pulled away from his face and showing the stark contrast of his red piercing eyes. Two scars fit on his face, one across the bridge of his nose and the other flowing down across his left eye. A deep upsetting rumble leaves his throat while a frown forms against his short scruff of a beard.

The two huntress' scowl in return but given his glare, are quick to vacant their table with swift gaits to change the ruined outfits they wore.

With a satisfied huff, this man joins the ridiculed one, taking a seat by his side without a word.

"Thanks, Shimazu." The male responds, a sigh leaving his body as a hand moves to grasp at the top of his shoulder where memories of the electricity could still be felt. "You have any idea what Myra called us for?" He questions, shaking off the younger hunters' taunts away.

Shimazu gives a soft shake of his head, crossing his arm on top of the reserved table.

Keasubi hums, running a hand through his short snowy middled-parted hair, fingers skimming past the other gift the golden Kadachi gave him, a scar slicing past his left eye that has somewhat affected the hazel-colored orb there. "Perhaps we'll be taking on the mysterious monster that took down that mercenary group last night. I heard the squad captain didn't make it."

Another huff, this time with a concerned scowl.

Shimazu could be hard to follow, taking an extreme with his near silence from his past experiences. With his own grandfather being the Huntsman, there was supposed to be an unspoken rivalry between he and Keasubi, the Admiral's grandson.

Or one would have thought so, had both children not been guided by the Huntsman as the better of the two. A title bestowed by the Admiral. With the two students' closeness and likeness they could be confused as brothers but the term isn't far from their relationship.

Brought even closer when tragedy struck Shimazu's original team right before his eyes. The only reason he wasn't part of the body count that night was his silence during the event.

While the rest of his party was being merry over their successful hunt, the ivory braided man had sought out a piece of quiet to settle his still running nerves.

And like a pack of wolves, the high pitching laughter echoed out as his team was slaughtered by swift shadows of claws and teeth. Keasubi was mocked for his tale of the Tobi-Kadachi, but no one laughed when Shimazu appeared back at Astera, days later, coated in the dried blood of his companions.

His last official words were of the laughing ghosts.

Now more in a stable state of mind, the man imparted very few words and his story fell in line with others that ventured into locales like the Sea of Trees.

There is a comfortable silence between the two as they wait for their companions. 

Myra was a woman that was hard to pin down in words. She had leadership in their team but also had the understanding to listen to others. She was open to any quest, no matter the monster, each an experience to hone their skills.

More than that, for the two men, she and the others of the team cared not for the tarnishing rumors attached to their names. Preferring to make judgements while on the field.

When the rest of their teammates arrive, the twin support members sit beside each other, steadily watching the leader with curious eyes. The greetings they exchange are minor and distracted.

Myra takes the last seat available and orders a round of drinks, a smile laced on her lips that gave nothing away to her news. 

"Alright, enough buttering us up." One half of their support huffs.

"Spill it, Myra." The other states after a long drink from their mug. 

Their leader puts down her own mug with a sigh. "I'm disbanding the group."

There's a roar of confusion among the four individuals, the loudest coming from Keasubi as he stands from his seat. The stool topples from the movement.

"Why?" He questions, others feeling the same.

"I'm headed back to the Old World to attend to some personal business." Myra answers simply. Her eyes drift elsewhere in the canteen, expression thoughtfully.

"This team is nothing without you to help guide it!" The glaive user remarks, they hit their fist on the surface of the table. The mugs tremble with the force.

"We're a team. We can wait for you." Keasubi pleads. "O-or even come with you if it's a quest!" Shimazu nods in his agreement, a low huff tumbling out of his throat.

"That's not the issue here!" The leader hisses, slamming her mug down that the liquid spills out in a wave. "I might not return, you think I want all of you to join me with that kid of aspect!?"

Shimazu scowls, crossing his arms over his chest with a shake of his head.

"What he said!" The bowgunner scoffs, pointing at the voiceless man. "We do life or death stuff every quest we take. Hell, the journey here wasn't a guarantee!"

"This is still my decision to make. I'm disbanding the squad and I'm going alone back to the Old World." Myra commands, chugging down the rest of her drink before taking a stand. "I will not have your potential deaths be on my conscience." She sighs lightly and offers her old mates a light smile. "I know you all will do fine without me."

She handles herself with grace as she walks away, a wave thrown over her shoulder, in farewell.

The four members dart their gaze around the table.

"We can form without her." Keasubi murmurs regretfully. Shimazu persk at the mention but nods in agreement. His red eyes narrow at the grain of the table, hurt cast in them.

The twins frown, looking at one another before the glaive support speaks up.

"Sorry Keasubi. It's just not the same without Myra." Their double begins to leave the table.

"I think it's time we take a break anyways. We've been working really hard for the Commission as of late." The other murmurs, unable to look at the mournful and pleading looks the two men give as they too, walk away.

The duo are left at the table, formerly known as their team's meeting place and now, merely a table in the canteen.

"W-well, we can still be a team, Shimazu." Keasubi warbles, looking at his friend with worried hazel eyes. "Right?" A tone of uncertainty was laced in his question, confidence stolen by the string of farewells their acquaintences had gifted them.

Crimson eyes land on him, a wall of hurt and betrayal swims in them, the same as his own. The snow haired silent man hums softly, hand stretching to rest on his shoulder. A firm shake and grip lets Keasubi know that his brother-in-arms would stay.

"Thank you." A breath he held now leaves his lungs in relief. A hand runs through his hair in anxious disarray from his disheveled thoughts.

No team would take them, regardless of their feats on quests. Keasubi especially as he was the sole witness to his tale. Anyone who did grant them a spot were likely to make comments behind their backs, every movement made would be scruntized for irrational behavior.

As it is, being a duo would be difficult with the rumors.

Keasubi isn't left to ponder at his next move for long, however, as a deep meow sounds from the below the table.

Both men glance down to between them. A large palico swipes at Keasubi's mug for himself, drinking down its contents eagerly.

Even if he was struggling to look over the table's edge.

Shimazu lets out an amuzed snort, allowing the old companion to drain his muf as well, moving it closer to his welcoming paws when he wanted it.

Keasubi finally snaps out of his daze before hysterically admonishing the feline. "Warrior!" He whines, pulling the bare cups out of his grip. "What are you doing? That was mine you know!"

The answer he recieves is one he was expecting, a loud, satisfied belch. The old cat does rub his muzzle happily against the man's side.

Happy rumbles echo from his chest that works as it did many other times, with a defeated groan by the thunder scarred man.

"Fine, I give up." He mutters, shoving lightly at Shimazu's shoulder for snickering at his plight. "Why are you here Warrior? I thought the old man had you run an errand."

With another low pitched meow, Warrior beckons the hunters to follow.

Keasubi and Shimazu give a helpless shrug at each other before standing to follow the eager palico. The brawny kitty skittering across the canteen floor like a charging Diablos.

The short haired man takes a moment to look back at the abandoned table. A small sigh worms its way out of his throat but he is quick to follow the swift palico with Shimazu. 

Warrior leads them to the command room, usually onl used for situations that needed to be discussed away from the public until they could formulate a proper plan.

Each hunter marked the door with their first hunt or an exceptionally remarkable one. Most went with the second option as most first hunts were relatively the same types of creatures. Be it fang, claw or scale, every hunter in the New World had placed something there to be seen.

Warrior gives another yowl before pushing the door, having help from Shimazu. The conversation inside stills at their entrance and the forms of three individuals are nestled close to the expansive map of the New World.

Ragnar, Keasubi's grandfather, stands tall beside a new mysterious woman shrouded in the midnight sky, hand pointing to an excessive red marked area and Aldrich, the commander, stands on her other side, looking to be mid-sentence before their arrival.

"You sent for us?" Keasubi murmurs, taking small steps into the room. Shimazu stalks in after him.

"Look who showed up!" The Admiral laughs, once again giving Warrior a hearty pat on his head. "And little Pup too." He grins widely.

Aldrich clears his throat, hand gesturing to the woman who had yet to speak a word to them. Her cowl covers her eyes from the two but they knew they were being watching closely. "Boys, I'm sure you've heard of the Silence. A lineage of exceptional researchers that have helped us draw new conclusions on monsters to both the New and Old worlds?"

"Wasn't the Silence the reason why the New World was discovered decades ago?" Keasubi questions, realization striking in his eyes as he takes in the woman's appearance. Most features were obscured by the starry glitter in the fabric and make it hard to discern.

"Before you ask, no, my father was the one who made the discovery." She states, a hint of an amused smirk gracing painted lips. "I'm not that old I'll have you know."

The young man laughs weakly, hand going to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment as his grandfather chuckles loudly at his regret. "Right."

The Admiral looks brightly at the two men as his claps the woman on her back, the force making her stumble forward just a bit as she braces against the table in front of her. "This here is Whisper. I asked for her to help us with the string of issues we've been having."

Shimazu rolls his wrist in a circular motion, wanting to know the details on their involvement.

"As a researcher, especially one that is new to this land, I can't move around by myself." Whisper continues, a frown set on her face. "And my original choice, was with the dead and injured that was found earlier." The second half is spoken lowly, delicate fingers clenching on the map into frustrated fists.

The snowy haired hunter gapes, many emotions coming to him with that statement. "Y-you want us to take you?" Keasubi concludes, his eyes meet his friend's, seeing the same astonishment.

"Well, it certainly makes it hard to think when this Rajang boasts loudly in my ears about your team." The researcher snorts, pointing the tall male at her side, his expression not one of shame. "Although I'm not opposed since I have no understanding of the other teams stationed here." She waves off. 

Shimazu grumbles, red eyes darting off away from the people around him. A tense look rests on his face while the muscles in his arms are flexed across his chest. Like suppressing his emotions.

"What is it little Owl?" Ragnar questions, noticing both the mute man's disposition and his own depressed figure at the mention.

"Myra disbanded our group. It's just Shimazu and I now." He replies with a sigh. "Sorry old man, you'll have to find another group." The tense atmosphere sprouts into a depressing one with his defeated attitude.

Ragnar and Aldrich share a look of surprise, the taller of the two opening his mouth to reply, however the violet-haired woman beats him to it.

"That's fine. I don't require a full squad if you two are capable enough. I don't believe you understand what this quest details, but it's not hunting a monster right away." Whisper comments, a hand sliding to her hip. "Your main concern is protecting me as I do my job. Keep me safe and help me around the terrain, that is all I ask." She walks gracely around to the two hunters at the other side of the table, fabric having its own mesmerizing sway at her movement. Her pale fingers reach out toward Keasubi. "Do we have a deal?"

Hazel eyes look toward the offerring appendage with caution and excitement, mouth drawn into a tight line as he ponders. His gaze glancing to his friend at his side, red eyes gleaming back before a clear nod is given as consent.

His arm extends, hand gripping the smooth surface of Whisper's welcoming own. "Yes." He answers, sure and resounding. 

"Good, now we're headed out to the newest site." The researcher presses out with a smile, hand slipping out of the hunter's with ease to shake with Shimazu's briefly. Her form glides past both after all is said and now. "Gear up, we leave when you do."

Behind them, the Admiral shakes his head with a small chortle at her ethusisiam. 

"Take care boys." Aldrich murmurs with a wave, sending them out of the room.

With Whisper at the lead, the trio walk the pathway back to the center of the community. A small exchange of their names, with Keasubi filling for his silent friend at his nudge during the small travel. Eyes gravitate to the three easily with their appearances. Murmurs cropping up once more but none allow it to bother them, nor listen in. "I will meet you two back at the dismount at the gate. Be ready." The woman announces, giving no pause in her motions as she walks with purpose.

Keasubi smiles to his friend and the two head back to their own personal quarters to gear up for their upcoming mission. With a few years under their belt already, and life full of training, the process was quick and left no room for error. Their supplies packed with off-handed items and rations that were overkill for other hunters to the quest at hand.

Whisper, true to her word, rests nearby at the gate as the two longsword users meet up with her.

Keasubi wears a mask covering the lower half of his face, inspired by the masks of the engineers, vents in the front and dual hoses planted into the sides that travel to his back. His overcoat was monochrome in color, and crafted by Wugal pelt. Gauntlets and his legs are adorned by various coppers, brass and other metals, sitting comfortably behind his calves as well, like a steamwork pipes. Several golden colored vials are wrapped around his waist. The sword that rests against his back is one with the bright reflective skin of a Tzitzi Ya-Ku.

By his side is Shimazu, while his armor isn't different from other Odogaron sets with the fiery crimson and wide brimmed hat that obscures the face a great deal. Sashes and knots either drenched in more red or white. The fact that he is set to use the full armor of the devil dog is noticably different from other hunters that pair pieces that they like into a full set that identifies them. It's the long sword he wields that garners the most attention. It's simple in nature with a black scabbard, but there's a metal appendage close to where the sword rest in it, that sticks out on the underside like a hold for a bowgun. Its purpose unkown until the moment of battle.

Briefly, the two hunters size each other up and hit each other's fist in comadarie and excitement radiating off them.

"Ready then?" Whisper comments, shutting her journal and allowing it to rest against her hip once more.

A firm nod from Shimazu.

A chirp in agreement from Keasubi, chest puffing out. One that reminds the woman too much of his grandfather.

She turns toward the numerous Wingdrakes roosting with the two hunters by her side, and with a jolt, stands straighter as a person calls her name.

"Whisper!" They yelp in surprise, landing on the port of the gate, Wingdrake returning to its previously vacant spot in the roost.

"Estella?" She returns with just as much astonishment. "I thought you were dead!"

The ebony haired woman scoffs as she comes closer to the researcher. "I'm too tough to be done in by some ugly bitch like that." She says off-handedly, waving Whisper off.

"You've seen it then?" Keasubi remarks. 

"I mean, I guess I have. It was pretty dark." Estella states, looking cautiously at the snowy haired hunter's interference. She crosses her arms and squares her shoulders. "What's it to you?"

"Estella." Whisper admonishes. "They are coming with me to investigate what happened." She answers, gaining the woman's attention again. "Why don't you rest and I'll question you later when we return." She pleads, a light pat on the sword and shield user's shoulder.

Purple eyes scan the trio with a frown marring black lips. A huff leaves her throat as she shakes her head. "Nope, if you guys go now then I'm gonna miss out on smacking that thing like it did me." She replies stubbornly. "I'm coming."

Keasubi chokes on air, hazel eyes gazing over at Shimazu then to Whisper. "Only if he agrees. Keasubi and Shimazu took this quest, it is their decision." The researcher murmurs passively, pointing a finger at the fluffy coated man.

He narrows his gaze at the ebony adorned woman in front of him, barrage of black roses around her neck as the coat's neckline and an impressively large sword and shield against her back. Her form is stubborn and is sizing Keasubi up as much as he was her. "I'm okay with it." He answers finally. "The more we have, the more we can defend against." 

Estella finally allows a smirk to grace her lips, a snort registering before she swings back towards the Wingdrake roosts. "I'm guessing Whisper didn't want to wait even for a moment, am I right? She's done the same to me." She sighs.

Under her cowl, the violet haired beauty rolls her eyes, getting direction from Shimazu on the area they had to leave for with a sharp gloved fingertip tapping a map in front of her chosen Wingdrake. Coral Highlands, which would be the beginning of their journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the players have been introduced, now for the fun.


End file.
